


Not Just A River (Wanna Drown In Your Ocean)

by Nyxierose



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Everyone Thinks They're Together, F/M, Fluff, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-19 13:58:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4748921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyxierose/pseuds/Nyxierose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which everyone else is completely convinced that Abby and Marcus are a thing... except they're not (yet) (but not for lack of trying or hoping on Abby's part).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Just A River (Wanna Drown In Your Ocean)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [convenientmisfires](https://archiveofourown.org/users/convenientmisfires/gifts).



> I know this trope has been done before and done by better people than me, but I figured I'd put my spin on it anyways. Fluff and (slight) disaster comedy are my great weaknesses so... here we are, I guess.

The first time, Abby convinces herself, is a complete and total accident. Teenagers, she is well aware, often have active imaginations. Even more so when they have managed to break their arm in three places and are under the influence of a nice array of painkillers, as is currently the case with Monty Green. The boy is adorable and has taken to hanging out in medical lately - something about his preferred locations not being safe anymore, Abby didn't have the heart or the sense to ask beyond that - but naturally the one time he wandered off for more than forty-eight hours, _that_ happened. Figures.

He's talkative and she tunes it out and focuses on trying to get a cast on him, but then one comment breaks through. "Is it even legal for Council members to date?"

Abby gives a very pointed _look_. "I have no idea what you're talking about." Kid's sixteen and she's starting to wonder if the rumors she's heard about new hallucinogens have any basis. She's not dealing with that.

\------

(A few hours later, for the hell of it, Abby decides to poke around and find out if there actually are any rules about the mentioned scenario. Just out of innocent curiosity. Not because it's remotely relevant to her situation. Because it isn't. At all. Because there is no way in hell that she has any form of romantic interest in her co-leader. At all. No matter _how_ lovely Marcus has been to her lately. It's not a thing. At all.)

(Still, it feels oddly reassuring to know that the only rule on the matter concerns individuals who are already married _before_ they are appointed to the Council. On that front, at least, she's safe.)

\------

The second time is not an accident because the second time is Raven, who wanders into medical a few days later in search of "something flammable, anything I can use as a fuse". As per usual, Abby stands back and doesn't ask questions and _definitely_ doesn't ask what the younger woman is planning to blow up this time because plausible deniability is still theoretically a thing. At least, until Raven attempts to grab something that is decidedly off-limits.

"Put it down," Abby mutters.

"It's two pieces of paper," Raven counters. "Which we currently have a lot of."

"Yes. And you can find some somewhere _else_."

"Please, I have watched your systems get checked last week, I know you have everything in digital form in triplicate. It's two pieces of paper and you love me." Then, suddenly, a look of complete understanding washes over Raven's face. "Unless it's _not_ appropriate documentation for putting somebody on sleeping pills?"

"It's not." The less given away, the better.

"Got it. Love letter. Okay then, I need to go... collect."

It isn't until several hours later that Abby processes the implications. First of all, that the ongoing belief that she is romantically entangled with someone is apparently far more common than she previously thought. And second, that Raven Reyes of all possible people has probably organized some sort of betting pool on the matter.

 _Fuck_.

\------

Naturally, it does not stop there. For the next week, Abby remains on edge, wondering where that rumor started and how she can effectively kill it. At least for a few days, she's convinced it's one of the ways the teenagers are dealing with things. She's not entirely sure how speculating on the romantic entanglements of people old enough to be their parents might help distract from their various psychological traumas, but if it's working then who the hell is she to judge. If it stays there, within their little faction, then she only has to hear about it when one of them gets hurt enough to get sent her way. Which still means about once a day, but only for short periods of time. It is still _not_ the most unrealistic rumor floating around the camp, and she can deal with it on those terms.

It is a completely different scenario when Jackson of all people decides to ask her about it. Jackson, who is sweet and probably ought to be running medical based on personal stability alone and who has listened to her occasionally ranting for almost the last decade about the things she would _love_ to do to Marcus Kane. Things of a decidedly less sexual and more violent nature than her current stance towards the individual in question. Jackson, of all people, should understand that it's not exactly a romance novel. But no, clearly they can't have that.

"So the rumor about you and-"

"Completely invalid and whomever came up with that is getting put on... hell, I don't even know, something awful. We are not having this conversation, understand?"

At least one person is willing to listen to her. Now she just has to convince two hundred other people.

\------

The day Abby finally comes up with a decent plan - a public announcement, which she knows is dramatic and might make her look like a bad person but at least it'll _work_  - she's not given a choice on the matter. Avoidance does not work as well as it ought to in a metal fishbowl, she should know that by now, but somehow she managed to steer clear of her walking headache for a solid two weeks. They'd had the sense to divide up responsibilities _before_ any of this went down, they had a nice little chat about how she does not like being hovered over, and she probably could have avoided the man for another six beautiful months if things continued to go according to plan. Instead, he wanders into her workspace with an aura of confusion and annoyance and all hell officially breaks loose.

"Do you want to explain why someone just asked me when I plan to propose to you?"

Abby can't help laughing. "It's gotten that far? _Really_?"

"We need to talk about this. Now." Marcus is flustered, which is an unfortunately hot look on him and... no, now is not the time for her mind to be wandering.

"If you're somehow convinced this is my fault, you're dead wrong. I don't know where it originated but I have done _nothing_ to encourage them."

"I wasn't-"

"They're not totally wrong though."

For a few blissful moments, he's stunned. "What?!"

"You heard me."

"You're serious?"

"You've known me since we were eight, Marcus. You know probably better than anyone else that I am a _terrible_ liar, especially with people I care about. If I have to repeat myself, let me know, but-"

"When did you plan to tell me?"

She laughs again, the awkwardness of the situation temporarily forgotten. "I dunno, I was considering quietly pining after you for twenty years but-"

"I was not pining."

"Yes you were. Subtle, but I still figured it out by the end of year one."

"You were married."

"How do you think I figured it out? Everyone else was happy at my wedding. You looked like you'd been kicked in the kidney." She takes a step forward, almost close enough to touch him if she were so inclined. "It didn't bother me. I knew, and I knew you'd probably never do anything about it, and-"

"I wanted to, but you were always-"

"I've been a widow for nearly two years. The door has been open. You've just been too stubborn, and I should've known better than to expect-"

He closes the distance between them and kisses her, soft and sweet and just a little bit desperate. "Is that what you wanted?"

"It's a start," she breathes, resting her head against his chest. "But we need to plan first. Are we actually doing this, or...?"

"I'm in if you're in."

"That's not an answer."

"Yes."

She pushes herself up on tiptoe and kisses him again, decidedly less innocent this time. "Alright then."

"Are we going to officially tell people?"

"I don't think we need to. There's a camera somewhere in that ceiling, and I bet the surveillance room is currently full to capacity."

"Then let's give them something worth watching."


End file.
